


Grey Days and Hoodies

by evakuality



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, slightly melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: Unfortunately, the hoodie is very much not sitting over the back of the chair where it had last been seen.  But that means David has a very good idea of what might have happened to it.“Matteo?” he calls. “Have you seen my hoodie?”There’s a sudden drop in the noise and clatter from the direction of the kitchen, and the humming stills.  There’s the briefest of pauses before Matteo calls back, “Noo,” in the least convincing voice possible.David laughs, his irritation immediately falling away as he pictures Matteo, eyes wide, and cheeky grin on his face as he tries to deny the obvious.“You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”Based on a tumblr prompt - was supposed to be fluffy but turned out more... pensive.
Relationships: Matteo Florenzi/David (Druck)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's a slight suggestion of dysphoria in this fic, so if that could bother you then it's something to be aware of. It's not graphic, but the hints are there.

There’s a tiny buzz of irritation running through him as David riffles through his wardrobe trying to find the one thing he wants to wear. It’s one of  _ those _ days, the ones where he needs to hide again, disappear into his clothes in a way he doesn’t often anymore. That’s why when it happens it’s important that he be able to find exactly what he wants. This time it’s his hoodie, darkest blue; one that’s filled with soft comfort and not so shapeless that it would call unwanted attention down onto David. But it’s large enough that he can hide what he needs to hide. In short, it’s the only one that will do.

And it’s missing.

Distantly, he hears the clatter of pans and an offkey mumbling hum as Matteo makes himself at home in Laura’s kitchen. David thinks of it as hers because he’s never been all that great at cooking and she’ll usually plant her hands firmly in his back and push him out to sit at the counter and watch rather than, as she puts it, letting him ruin any hope of culinary satisfaction. But Matteo she has welcomed with open arms and given free range of the kitchen to do whatever he likes. He’s taken that very much at face value, wandering in and cooking whatever he likes whenever he likes.

Despite his irritation, that cheerful hum lifts David’s mood and he feels the corner of his mouth twitch upwards as he imagines what his boyfriend might be rustling up in there. Probably pasta alla Luigi, he thinks fondly. That’s always Matteo’s go-to favourite, the one he returns to over and over again, as comforting to him as the hoodies and shapeless clothes can be to David.

As if it flips a switch, that reminds David of exactly where he’d left the hoodie. He swivels to look at the back of the chair over which it had been hanging last night as Matteo had run his fingers over it, smiling as he looked down at the slightly worn fabric. 

“You remember this hoodie?” he’d asked, that small smile widening to sit around the edges of his lips as he’d looked up and over at David.

“Since I was just wearing it, I think I do,” David had replied in a deadpan voice, reveling in the huff Matteo had let out at the words.

“You wore this one when we got together, in the pool,” Matteo had said, pushing past the irrelevant commentary and sucking all the breath out of David. “And over that next weekend. Remember?”

David had in fact remembered that; it’s one of the reasons why this hoodie has always been the one he returns to when he needs the comfort of clothes that will hide him away from everyone and everything. Because in all of that, hiding from Matteo hasn’t often been something David wants to do. He’s the only one who gets to see all of who David is, physically and metaphorically. Not even Laura gets that privilege. And this hoodie represents all of that. Represents the moment David had decided to let Matteo in.

“Yeah,” he’d breathed quietly. “I remember.”

At that point Matteo had dropped his fingers off the hoodie and stepped over to David and every thought of it had gone. Until now. Until David had started looking for it, pushed into wanting it perhaps by the memory of that conversation.

Unfortunately, the hoodie is very much not sitting over the back of the chair where it had last been seen. But that means David has a very good idea of what might have happened to it. 

“Matteo?” he calls. “Have you seen my hoodie?” 

There’s a sudden drop in the noise and clatter from the direction of the kitchen, and the humming stills. There’s the briefest of pauses before Matteo calls back, “Noo,” in the least convincing voice possible.

David laughs, his irritation immediately falling away as he pictures Matteo, eyes wide, and cheeky grin on his face as he tries to deny the obvious.

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

There’s no response, but it doesn’t matter. They both know he is wearing it, and the warmth that floods David isn’t due only to the way Matteo’s voice can always settle him, because all he’s doing now is picturing it. The way that hoodie almost certainly sits over Matteo’s shoulders, hanging low around his hips, and bringing out the blue in his eyes.

Giving up on the one-true-hoodie he’d wanted to wear, David instead spots Matteo’s, flung in a far corner of the room with no respect for the plant it fell onto in the heat of the moment last night. It’s almost perfect for David's needs as well: black, large, the hood wide enough to cover most of his head and fall down over his eyes if he wants it to. The large white ‘techno’ splashed over the chest is just enough to ensure it’s not obvious David is trying to hide. Because, despite the small lift in his spirits, David still needs to be covered and hidden and doesn’t want people to notice or worry about him.

So he quickly grabs it, and pulls the hoodie over his head, pausing just long enough to take a deep breath of the way it smells like Matteo. Even that is comforting, a small connection while he’s not here in the room with David. Looking down, David can’t help but smile. He’s seen this hoodie so often on Matteo that it’s a little strange to see it on his own body. But it’s nice; every moment he’s seen it flickers through his head, a litany of good times they’ve had together. 

By the time he gets to the kitchen, the room is filled with the scent of simmering tomatoes and herbs, and David smiles to himself as he sees it is indeed pasta alla Luigi and that Matteo is indeed wearing the hoodie David had been hunting for. Matteo has gone back to humming, and his eyes are lit up as they fall on David wearing his hoodie.

“Isn’t that my hoodie?” he asks as he turns back to the food.

“Well, someone stole mine so I had to improvise.”

“I like it,” Matteo says quietly as he stirs the sauce, probably more vigorously than he needs to. “I like seeing my stuff on you.”

David understands that; there’s something about the way his own hoodie looks on Matteo that puts something warm and comforting into his stomach. It looks like home and happiness, like they’ve intertwined their lives so deeply that there’s nothing left that’s just David or just Matteo. That they’re now the two of them together.

That should probably freak him out, today of all days when he’s been hit with the desire to become small and unseen, but it doesn’t. It comforts him. Makes him remember that he doesn’t have to travel this thing alone. That, as Matteo told him all those months ago, he has Matteo and he has all the time in the world. There’s no race here, no need to be perfect on a deadline.

Matteo fiddles with the dials on the stove top and serves his pasta. They eat and David settles further into letting the peace of being with Matteo fall over him. If his eyes drift over Matteo’s body more often than usual, that’s only to be expected. It’s not even unusual that they share clothes, their t-shirts have become difficult to separate as they both wear them all so often. The heady buzz of delight that always hit him when Matteo appears in his clothes has mostly dissipated. But there’s something about  _ that _ hoodie that’s calling up all those feelings again. 

Maybe it’s just because it’s the one they were talking about last night and so it has more meaning than most. Remembering that first weekend they were together, David recalls both the exhilaration of the moment and the deep fear that he was going to expose too much to someone he didn’t really know. Seeing Matteo here now, so domestic as he rinses off their used dishes then shakes his hands out, making the sleeves of the hoodie slip down over his wrists, reminds David of how far he’s come. It makes him feel both fragile and filled with steel, a contradiction that shouldn’t work and yet one which makes all the sense in the world.

They fall together once they return to David’s room, Matteo pulling David in close to his chest as they lie on the bed, arms wrapped around him and skimming low over his belly. He nuzzles in behind David’s ear and huffs a warm breath out with a soft laugh. It sends shivers down David's spine, making him clutch at Matteo’s fingers where they slip in and under the hoodie he’s wearing.

“What’s the matter?” Matteo says softly, letting his nose run along and down David’s neck until his lips rest just over the spot where it joins his shoulder.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Matteo sighs, squeezing his fingers. “Just a feeling I get, like you’re not… I don’t know.”

David can almost feel the frustration he’s feeling at not being able to articulate what he means. That’s always been part of Matteo, that sometimes he’ll fumble over his words, unsure of how to entirely explain everything that’s happening in his head. David gets what he means anyway.

So he shrugs. “It’s just a day,” he says, trying not to spill everything that’s going on but unwilling to keep Matteo out of his thoughts entirely. “A grey one. You know?”

“Mmmmm.”

They settle together, quiet and contemplative for a while. This is another of the things David has always loved about Matteo. That while they can laugh at each other and banter around, making up ridiculous pranks and teasing each other mercilessly, that in the moments when it matters they can be still. That if David needs it, Matteo will be there, gently helping him through whatever is going on. And vice versa.

He knows Matteo can tell part of the reason why he’s feeling so off, and that he’s being very careful about where he touches. David feels safe here, wrapped up in Matteo. Like he can be himself, no matter how he’s feeling. So he relaxes, lets his body lean into the warmth on offer, and sighs his contentment.

“I love you,” he whispers, tangling his fingers more firmly in Matteo’s at his waist.

He feels the soft whisper of lips on his neck, pressing onto his skin all the love and affection he knows Matteo holds. One of Matteo’s hands reaches up and gently pushes the fabric of the hoodie away from David's neck. The cloth that was intended to hide him, the hood itself, moves away under their pressure, letting cool air brush over his neck and exposing the top of his back. Matteo’s fingertips drift sideways and downwards, tracing the lines of David's neck and down over his back. His lips follow in their wake, pressing onto the skin right above David’s binder, and he shivers again. 

By rights he should feel exposed, all his efforts to shut himself away behind fabric seemingly for nothing. There are days when he’d recoil from this, not willing to let even Matteo in like this, but that’s not happening today. Instead, today he feels treasured, cherished; Matteo’s kiss centers David in a way he hadn’t thought he could be. Not today. Reminds him that he is loved.

Then gentle fingers move the hood back to cover the exposed skin, slipping it up and over the back of David’s head, and Matteo snuggles in behind David, his breath warm on the back of David’s neck through the thick fabric. His arm returns to hold David and his fingers still carefully stay low and secure. 

“I love you too,” comes the reassuring murmur into the back of the hood.

It’s still a grey day, David still feels the desire to hide away from the world and be unseen. But today he likes the comfort of knowing that he isn’t alone, that he has someone he can rely on to walk the path with him. Today and other days. He squeezes Matteo’s hand again, feels the same in return. 

It’s enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend to add to this originally, but then I got this prompt on tumblr that seemed to fit and I thought why not do a Matteo version? Again, there's implied references to mental health issues, but it doesn't have to be read that way if you don't like that headcanon. It can just be read as someone going through some stuff and not coping perfectly.

Matteo has cuddled down into the hoodie, settling it close and tight around himself. It’s soft and warm, the inside just the right amount of fluffy to comfort rather than irritate. Best of all it’s David’s. Or it used to be, once upon a time when ownership had meaning. Now they wear each other’s clothes with the same frequency as they wear their own, and everything’s all entangled. Just like that movie David had recommended to Matteo all those months ago. 

The fact that it’s David’s is important, though. In a bigger picture kind of way. Today’s not been good. In fact, yesterday wasn’t much good either. And when he tries to think, Matteo can’t pinpoint the last time a day did feel good. He doesn’t get into these funks too often anymore, when being with people is too much and it’s easier to be alone.

This one has slipped up on him, creeping in bit by bit. First he chose not to go out somewhere with his friends once or twice. Then, it just became easier to stay home more often than not. Now it’s been so long since Matteo saw anyone socially apart from his flatmates that he can’t even pinpoint the last time he did anything you might consider fun. 

It’s not like he hasn’t been out; he’s been to work. He’s talked and laughed with the people there. There’s been a semblance of feeling social in those crucial places, where he has to expend energy to be. Energy he’s always totally out of when he gets home, and so he curls up in his room, wrapped in a hoodie and doing as little as he can. He hasn’t felt lonely, exactly. The slow drift of his isolation has crept in without him really noticing he’s isolated. Not noticing that he’s bored.

Until now, when he’s wrapped up in David’s hoodie and doesn’t feel like doing anything else. Weed maybe. Except he can’t even be bothered to get up to find any, not even to make the boredom and all the swirling mess of his thoughts more bearable. So he lies, arms tucked in under his armpits, hoodie clutched tight to his body and his mind drifting.

It could be minutes later, or hours. The door creaks, the squeaky hinge that’s been bothering him for the last few weeks screeching in a way that hurts his ears. He squints, eyes cracking against the sudden glare of the overhead light as someone flicks it on.

He squeezes them shut again, blinking away the water that pools in the corners as they try to adjust to the unaccustomed glare. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s not sad, after all. Just a little distanced. There’s no reason why any water in his eyes would be anything other than a reaction to the suddenness of the light. No reason why the sight of someone else slipping into the room might put a lump into Matteo’s throat and an ache into his chest. 

“Hey,” he hears a soft voice saying as David slips in behind him on the bed. Arms slide in under his body and he’s pulled firmly back into David’s chest “I missed you.”

Matteo keeps his eyes squeezed shut. He doesn’t want to look at David right now. Not when he’s like this, so listless and lacking energy. Not when he has nothing to offer to someone like him. There was a time when being with David could stave off these feelings, make Matteo feel alive and active. There was a time when the newness and intrigue of the thing with David was enough to break through any apathy Matteo might have been feeling. But today that’s not true. Today, Matteo is not in a space where he can feel anything much at all. 

He feels fingers sliding into his hair, brushing it away from his exposed ear. Then lips press a small kiss onto the edge of that ear, and David’s voice murmurs little endearments too softly for Matteo to even understand any of them. But he can tell it’s filled with love, all the things David is saying. It’s all there in the tone of the voice and the comfort of his touch. 

Part of Matteo feels like that shouldn’t be for him, that it shouldn’t be up to David to break into this funk this way. Part of him wants to pull away and hide, to reject all this care and attention because someone as messed up as he is doesn’t deserve any of it. He doesn’t let that part win, though. Because alongside all of those feelings is the feeling that it’s nice having David here. It’s nice to be held. It’s nice to feel loved again.

“Nobody’s seen you in days,” David mutters eventually. This time he’s loud enough to be heard. Loud enough for Matteo to know that it’s important to David to say this. Under the soft quiet of the words, Matteo can hear the pain. He’s not saying it, but it seems like David has been worried. Or hurt. Or both.

A stab of guilt stings Matteo, sending hot shame flashing fire into his chest and trickling out until it tingles into his fingers and down his legs. It’s not just himself anymore. When he feels like this and all he wants is to lie on his bed with weed hanging out of his mouth and his eyes fixed on nothing in particular, he can’t just opt out of the world anymore. He has a someone, a someone who worries. A someone who doesn’t deserve such a selfish boyfriend.

He sighs, curls more tightly in on himself.

“I’m sorry.”

Those lips brush his ear again, soft and warm and sending a pleasant tingle through Matteo, the first thing to really broach the fog he’s found himself in. It’s too much for an asshole like Matteo and he tries not to let himself enjoy it. But he can’t resist. 

“What are you sorry for.”

The voice is soft and patient. Matteo shrugs, an aborted lift of his shoulder. Or as much as he can in the confines he’s squished himself down into. “Everything.”

“That’s a lot to be sorry for.”

There’s fondness in that voice, amusement. Again part of Matteo wants to recoil, because it pulls up a savage bubbling anger that someone, that _David_ , thinks this is funny. But the other part, the one that was soothed by the presence of David’s love, knows that thought is an asshole, and uncharitable to boot, and manages to shove it aside before he says something shitty and awful.

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually I don’t.” 

There’s still a hint of that amusement, but overwhelming it is the fondness. David’s hand slips around to run gentle circles on Matteo’s hand where it’s clutching tightly onto his hoodie, the string curled around two fingers. Little by little David’s fingers press into the spaces between Matteo’s, and little by little they unfurl the tight hold he has on the fabric of the hoodie and move to settle into David’s hand.

It almost distracts Matteo enough that he forgets that he’s feeling like shit. Those fingers, questing with a sure, comforting firmness, say something to Matteo. They speak of someone who’s not giving up, who will work through any barriers Matteo might try to put up, quietly and patiently, but without aggression.

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” he says as a way of thanking David for taking the time to persist with him.

There’s so much more to be said, so much more nuance this apology demands. But Matteo’s tired, wrung out even though he’s been doing nothing, with no energy left to try to articulate any of it. So none of it gets said.

David seems to understand anyway.

“We’ve been a bit concerned,” he says, playing with Matteo’s fingers. Brushing against the soft fabric of the hoodie under his hand, giving warmth along with the soothing touch. “I hoped you’d contact me.”

Matteo avoids the implicit question. He’s not sure how to tell the person he loves most that he’d forgotten how to live and connect and _be_. That he’d forgotten how to communicate. Instead he focuses on another part of the comment. “We?”

With a sigh, as if he can tell that Matteo is avoiding that part, David says, “Jonas, the other boys. Laura.” he huffs out a small laugh. “Hanna even called me.”

Matteo lets his breath out in a rush, another bright flash of guilt flooding him as he thinks of how he’s affected all his friends. “That’s a lot of people.”

“Mmmmm,” David agrees. 

There’s silence for a long time then, until Matteo eventually finds himself relaxing, his body uncurling a little more as David’s presence has its usual effect. He’s not sure why he’s been out of contact even with David.

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” he says quietly, feeling that ache in his chest again and the pump clogging his throat. “I… didn’t even notice what I was doing. It was work and home, work and home.”

He’s feeling fragile, all his emotions so close to the surface that it’s hard to admit even this much. Again, David seems to understand that, because all he does is drop Matteo’s hand in order to pull him in more closely.

“Are you okay?” David asks, his breath warm against Matteo’s neck..

There have been times when Matteo has shrugged this type of question off with a small shrug and a laugh, doing his best to minimise everything he’s been feeling. But it’s David, so he can’t do it.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I didn’t notice it was days. It didn’t _feel_ like days.”

“I figured.”

David pulls on Matteo’s hoodie, a quiet hint for him to turn around so they can look at each other. He does after a moment, leaving the security of having his back pressed up against David. It takes a moment for him to be able to look up and into David’s eyes. There’s too much shame in the way he’s been acting, too much shame in how he’s unwittingly kept David out.

But when he does meet David’s eyes, all Matteo sees is affection. There’s none of the condemnation he’s been pouring over himself, and he has to close his eyes again to avoid letting any of that water pooling in his eyes to trickle out. 

“I love you,” David whispers, presses their foreheads together. “All your friends love you. You’re not some fucked up vampire, and you don’t have to be alone. I’m here. I want to be here.”

Matteo’s lips twitch a little as he hears the memory of his own words, angry and aggressive, echoing through the empty pool they were standing in. As ridiculous as it might seem, that thought helps a little. Because what they have isn’t always nice and sweet. It isn’t always perfect. Sometimes it’s frustrating, sometimes it might be angry. Sometimes he’ll fuck up and think he’s messed it all up.

But what it always is, is the two of them. Matteo still feels like shit, still has no way to fully articulate everything he’s been feeling, but the connected part of him feels better, the part that had warmed to David’s presence even while feeling he didn’t deserve his affection. That part’s grateful that they have their thing here. That they can be together in this way, that David can call him out on things like, remind him to do some living even if it’s hard. That none of that negates the affectionate parts.

He can’t say any of that, as clogged up and messed up and listless as his brain has been today.

So all Matteo does is snuggle a little closer, brushing his nose onto David’s, feels his arms wrap around him more securely, pressing the soft fluffiness of the hoodie more tightly against his body. He smiles, for the first time today.

“I love you too,” he manages. It’s not enough, doesn’t adequately express everything Matteo wants to say. But it’s all he has.

For now, it’ll have to do. For now, it’s what he has.


End file.
